Praying with Symbols

A few months ago I took the room vacated by my eldest son leaving home and created part of it to be a prayer room. I’m content to let the room grow into its function and haven’t rushed to do a lot of decorating but I have done a few things. I’ve covered a trunk with a white cloth to create an “altar” and on a beautiful wooden shelf my not-very-handy husband made with great pride that was already there, I placed some objects that have become spiritual symbols for me. Recently I discovered that these symbols make excellent prompts for prayer and have discovered a joy and power in moving from one to the next as I pray.

Alabaster box filled with spikenard. My friend gave me the alabaster box for Christmas because of my name, Magdaleine. It was Mary Magdalene who extravagantly broke a box of alabaster wiped the contents, oil of spikenard, over Jesus’ feet with her hair. The box my friend gave me begged for the same oil so I went hunting until I found some. I enter my prayer room, stand at the shelf, open the box and, my finger dipped in oil, anoint my forehead with the sign of the cross. I want to be extravagantly devoted to you, Jesus. Keep my mind fixed on you. I dip again, anointing my eyes: May I see only your truth. Blind me to the lies of the enemy. Give me clarity of vision. My ears: Help me hear your voice and obey, Lord! My lips: May I speak only that which will give you glory and honour. My heart: I give my heart to you alone, Oh God. Keep me extravagantly devoted to you!

A framed stamp of the Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights). Three years ago a small group of people gathered to pray with and for me as I made my way through Neil Anderson’s “Steps to Freedom in Christ”. It took two very long, exhausting nights to complete. At the end, in celebration, I took the group out to a nearby restaurant. As we left the house, there in the sky was the most incredible display of Northern Lights. We don’t usually see this phenomenon in the city because we’re too far south and because of all the lights of the city but that night the display was awesome. It was as if God had made the heavens dance in celebration of the victory and freedom I’d just won. And so I pray, Thank you for dancing over me with singing (one translation of Zephaniah 3:17). You, the Creator of the heavens, who uses them as your pallet, you care about me! Thank you! Thank you for your love. Thank you for loving ME!

Pile of coins. No special meaning to these. I happened to have the coins in my hand and didn’t know what to do with them, so I left them on the shelf but they are a good reminder to pray, Thank you for your provision.

Book of Common Prayer. It’s a teeny, leather-bound book that I used for a while in my prayer time. Some of the prayers in there are so rich! Thank you for the prayers of the saints, God. Those saints are those who pray for me.

Bulldozer. The night of the Aurora Borealis, one of the interceders had a picture or vision relating to what God was doing for me. She saw a bulldozer, with an enormous light shining at the top, clearing away huge boulders to make a wide highway for me. And so I pray, Thank you for preparing a path before me, for levelling the hills, raising the valleys and smoothing the rough places. Thank you for working tirelessly to do this for me, God (the light indicates he doesn’t stop for the night). I stop and think (and pray) about how he has and is doing this. There is so much my God has done for me. I hold that little bulldozer in my hands (and the framed Aurora Borealis earlier in my prayer) and feel so loved by God. I know he’s taking care of me. He’s watching over me. He LOVES me!

Sea glass. It’s just a small bit of thick, green glass, worn smooth by the waves of the ocean. I was given the glass at a Christmas service of grieving a few weeks after walking away from Pearl. I had chosen God over her but the pain of losing her felt worse than death. The glass is a reminder of how much God cares and so I pray. Pearl is in your hands, God. You love her more than I ever could. Please take care of her. Protect her! Bless her and have your way with her, please! I return the piece of glass to the bucket of the bulldozer.

Railway spike. Three years ago, the day before Easter, I was making my way through a labyrinth of prayer that featured various stations of the cross. Many of the meditations at the various stations had deep and personal meaning for me but the one that was most revolutionary focused on a low table holding nails and a hammer. I spent a great deal of time here, trying to grasp what exactly it was that Jesus had done for me and for the first time I finally understood something that had eluded me for years.

In Colossians 2:13-14, Paul is saying that Jesus cut away my sinful nature and nailed it to the cross. Wow! Thank you for your forgiveness, Lord! Thank you for nailing my sinful nature to the tree. I stop here and I begin to search. Are there things I need to confess to God? Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time clutching that spike in prayer. As I did so the other day, I realized just how MUCH I need God. I can’t do anything, I can’t be the person I need to be without him. As the impact of that settled on me in a deeper way than ever before I found I didn’t want to relinquish the spike. My need for God is so very, very great.

Inkwell and quill. Father, keep me faithful in telling others about you and what you have done for me.

I move from the shelf to my makeshift altar.

Crown of thorns. I made this years ago from a hawthorne tree on my aunt’s farm. The thorns are more than 2 inches long—very hard and very sharp. I hold it up to my face in a way that causes the thorns to command all my sight. Lord, help me to embrace the suffering that comes to me rather than running from it or trying to medicate it in ways that dishonour you. May I be willing to share in the fellowship of your sufferings.

Wine Goblet of Grape Juice. I was at a retreat when God gave me a picture of Jesus’ blood covering me like an ice cream cone is covered with chocolate dip. Just as wasps can’t get past the chocolate to get to the ice cream, the fiery darts of the enemy can’t get past Jesus’ blood covering me. There’s another thing about blood. In many cultures, if you eat certain animals or drink their blood, you are thought to have taken on that animal’s characteristics. And so I lift the goblet I filled upon entering the room and pray: Cover me with your blood, Jesus! Protect me from the evil one! Fill me with the character of Jesus, God. I want to be like him. Fill me with your Holy Spirit. Produce in me the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. I want to be like you.

Small dish of salt. I am the salt of the earth, God, but if the salt loses its saltiness it is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled by men. Please keep me salty, God.

Three-wick candle. When this was given me, I knew I had to keep it for when I finally had a place to be alone with God. I like to think the three wicks represent the Trinity. I stare into the flames as I quote Jesus and then pray: "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hid, neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they place it on its stand and it gives light to everyone in the house." Lord, help me to let my light shine so others will see my good deeds and praise you who are in heaven.

Length of copper piping. I don’t have this in my room yet but I pretend it’s there. God keep me a clean and unblocked conduit for you to flow through. Flow through me, God!